


Cold Truths

by Wichi



Category: Left 4 Dead, Left 4 Dead 2
Genre: Angst, Gen, Near Death, Platonic Male/Male Relationships, Sad, Survival Horror, Zombie Apocalypse, Zombies, hurt nick, might add to this sometime idk, zombie survival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2015-08-29
Packaged: 2018-04-17 19:42:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4678955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wichi/pseuds/Wichi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When an accident leads to Nick becoming gravely injured, Ellis must face the very real possibility of facing the apocalypse alone.</p><p>Inspired by Valve's Left 4 Dead series and AMC's The Walking Dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold Truths

"Didja... ever pretend t' be uh millionaire?"

"Ellis." 

"Okay... didja ever pretend t' be uh lawyer?"

" _Ellis._ " 

     "Okay, okay," Ellis conceded with a sigh, swinging his axe down on the large branch they were attempting to chop for firewood. "Still don' know why yuh won' tell me nothin' bout before th' zombies. ‘Specially when zombies are th’ only ones left tuh tell."

The entire branch gave a violent tremble as Nick all but cleaved it in two.

     "My past is my past. You can whine all you want, I'm not telling you shit." 

Ellis was used to Nick's hostility, and not particularly deterred. 

     "Ah know you go’ all those papers an' IDs still, sayin' yer all kinds uh shit you ain'. Hell, yuh pulled th' doctor license on me when Ah got sick las' winter."

Nick buried the axe into the branch, closing the distance between them in two strides before ripping Ellis' axe right out of the mechanic's hands.

     "Go check the guns or something, I’m sick of hearing your god damn voice.”

     Ellis’ face faltered just a bit as Nick turned away, chopping at the branch like he’d already left. The ex-conman always dug his heels in when Ellis tried to ask about his past. He knew damn well Nick must have killed people _before_ the infection. Killed them, ruined their lives, something.

It wasn’t just him not wanting to talk about it, either. It was like he was afraid of having it out in the open.

Ellis reluctantly left Nick to chop their firewood alone.

     The saferoom was only a short walk away, and it was tiny. It must have been a supply shed for forest rangers or something, because it really was little more than a shed. The space was cramped, especially at night, but there were at least some clean sleeping bags left behind. Nick ‘slept’ on one, Ellis on the other, listening to the older man toss and turn in his sleeping bag til morning.

     At the very least, the people who’d been there last left a lot of clothes. Ellis had changed into a pair of jeans, a solid grey t-shirt and a green plaid button-down. He finally convinced Nick to change as well, save the suit. He’d only agreed because he found another nice blazer among the suitcases. Nick had been willing to compromise on a lot of things, but not his style. Hence why the cityslicker was chopping firewood in a black dress jacket.

     The white suit remained where it had been when he’d finally agreed to take it off, folded up on the table, beside the spare gas cans and their guns. He hadn’t packed it away just yet.

     Ellis paid it no mind as he started breaking down the AR-15, methodically cleaning and adjusting as he went. He balanced it in one hand, digging around in his backpack for the tool he needed when the sniper rifle tumbled out of his grip. It knocked one of the gas cans clean over, spilling a generous amount of harsh-smelling liquid all over Nick’s $3000 suit.

     The mechanic swore, quickly uprighting the can as a cold sense of dread washed over him, amplified as Nick barged into the safe room behind him and began to fumble with his own bag. Ellis’ eyes slid shut as he slowly turned to face the other survivor.

     “Christ, Ellis, cap the gas cans, it reeks in here.”

Ellis steeled his resolve and finally cleared his throat.

     “Uhh, Nick? … How pissed would yuh be if Ah accidentally spilled somethin' on yer white suit?”

The taller man stopped dead, rotating menacingly on the spot.

     “What the fuck did you _do._ ”

Ellis swallowed hard, inching slightly to the side, revealing the soaked white suit.

     “Ah jus'... kinda... knocked over uh gas can on yer suit...”

Nick’s grey eyes flashed dangerously, and he slowly closed in on the mechanic.

     “ _Gas... on... MY... suit?”_

     The conman managed one more step before Ellis scrambled for his shotgun and ran out the door like a frightened rabbit. He didn’t need Nick’s verbal clues to know that certain death was hot on his heels.

     “I’M GOING TO KILL YOU WITH MY BARE FUCKING HANDS!!!” Nick roared, legs pumping as he chased the mechanic through the empty forest.

     “AH DIDN' MEAN IT NICK AH'M SO SORRY PLEASE-“ Ellis howled, the younger man sprinting as if a witch was after him.

     “STOP RUNNING ASSHOLE!!!” Nick screamed, though he was quickly running out of steam. The kid, on the other hand, jumped and caught a branch on a tree ahead, swinging himself up with ease. Nick watched with annoyance as Ellis scaled the tree like a pro before doubling over to catch his breath.

     “You stay there, I'm gonna get the truck.” He finally growled, straightening up.

     “We totaled the truck, remember?” Ellis peered down from the safety of the tree’s higher branches. Nick could have come after him, but the older survivor was not fond of heights.

     “I’M GONNA TOTAL _YOU_ , SMARTASS!”

     “AH SAID AH WAS _SORRY!”_

Nick’s impatience was only wearing thinner the longer Ellis stayed in his strategic place of safety.

     “COME ON ELLIS, I AIN'T GONNA HURT YA!” He finally called, annoyed at both the situation and the kid’s gut reaction to flee from his anger.

     “BULLSHIT!” Ellis snapped, “You've clocked me cold for uh lot less than that!”

Nick’s chest heaved as the kid only proceeded to climb higher, away from him and damn-near out of sight.

     “Don't make me come up there for ya!” He bellowed, craning his neck to find the mechanic in the leaves.

     “You couldn' catch me up 'ere. City slickers can' climb worth shit!”

     “AND REDNECKS CAN'T EVEN SPEAK ENGLISH FOR SHIT!”

     Ellis grunted with the effort of climbing higher, definitely beyond the point where the gambler might have followed. Nick looked ready to explode, his pale face flushed with anger.

     “You come down here, you redneck!”

     “MAKE ME!”

Nick’s eyes rolled up into his head, at the end of his rope as he scrubbed both hands down his face with a noise of frustration.

     “Come on, Ellis, this is stupid…”

     Ellis opened his mouth to retaliate, but the words died in his throat as a smoker called into the forest, somewhere behind Nick. The survivor whipped around, eyes wide as he searched.

     “SHIT!” He hissed, eyes darting frantically into the foliage, “Ellis, do you see ‘im!?”

     “Not yet!” Ellis called back, cursing the tactical shotgun slung over his back and wishing he’d grabbed the hunting rifle at least. “Hunker down, Ah’m comin’!”

     Nick dove behind a burned-out truck, nervously watching the kid climb down. It wouldn’t take much for a smoker to snatch Ellis right out of the tree, break his neck or back when he hit the ground. He peered cautiously over the bed of the truck as the smoker called again.

     Ellis had his shotgun raised, peering into the darkness of the forest as he padded toward Nick.

     “C’mon y' ugly bastard…”

     “Get your ass _down_!” Nick hissed, waving his hand for emphasis, “he could be anywhere.”

Ellis dropped flat, army crawling until his back was against the truck’s, beside Nick.

     “Do you have any guns?” The mechanic whispered, trying to peer over the bed, “all Ah got is the SPAS-12.”

Nick held up his sidearm.

     “I’ve got a deagle. Thats all. Dammit! We need a plan.”

Ellis checked the shotgun, making sure everything was in order.

     “Shoulda finished the damn sniper rifle but nooo, Ah had tuh knock over that gas can instead-“

     “Shut up, I’m thinking.”

     Ellis opened his mouth to speak when the smoker howled again, and Nick was suddenly forced to the side. Their skulls cracked together with staggering force, and Ellis was left lying sideways and dazed as the long, foul-smelling tongue pulled Nick over the bed of the truck.

     “SHIT! THIS THING’S GOT ME!!!” Nick cried out before the tongue tightened around his chest. Ellis climbed drunkenly to his feet, following the sound of his friend being dragged through the trees.

     The smoker had picked excellent cover. Ellis only heard a twig snap here, a muffled yell there. Still, he galloped on, following the sound of struggle. It took entirely too long to find him, every moment spent in pursuit was one less moment of air in his only friend’s lungs.

     Nick was hanging off a branch, the dark-colored smoker all but hidden in the trees above. Ellis’ eyes widened as he heard an audible snap, and Nick’s eyes rolled up into his head. He gave one final twitch and fell still.

     Ellis pumped eight rounds into the smoker, coughing as it collapsed in a billow of noxious green gas. He managed to grab Nick before the man hit the ground, using his machete to free his body from the constricting tongue.

     “Aw shit, aww shit, aw shit, man. SHIT.” He babbled, pressing his ear against the man’s chest to listen for a heartbeat, working lungs, anything.

Nick wasn’t breathing.

     “ _SHIT!”_ He almost sobbed, pinching Nick’s nose and forcing air into his unresponsive lungs. His hands folded over each other and frantically pressed down over the man’s sternum, hard enough he felt like he’d break it.

     “Don’t you leave me now,” Ellis growled, forcing more air into Nick’s body before resuming the CPR.

     “All those times you called me uh worthless hick,” He slammed a fist down over Nick’s heart over and over, trying to jolt the muscle into working again. “How about now, huh? This worthless hick is savin’ your life, c’mon!”

     Nick’s eyes did not open as he suddenly gasped for air. Ellis tugged him close, tilting his head back a bit so he could breathe easier. The mechanic all but sagged with relief, letting Nick’s unconscious body do what it needed to do to put itself right.

     When the gasping and coughing finally subsided, Ellis shifted his arms under Nick’s arms and knees, lifting him off the ground with a grunt. The gambler didn’t wake, nor did Ellis expect him to as he carried his teammate back to their shed of a saferoom.

 

Almost a day and a half had passed, and Nick had still not stirred.

     Ellis had done everything he could to distract himself from Nick’s shallow breathing. His deathly-pale face. The fact he was still in the same position on the sleeping bag Ellis had left him in since returning to the saferoom. All the guns were cleaned. He’d managed to shoot a wild turkey and get that skinned and cooked, keeping it warm over the embers just in case.

     Even the suit had been taken to the river and washed the best he could. It still smelled faintly of gas, and should probably be washed again.

     Ellis cleaned his pistols for the third time, occasionally squinting at Nick’s pale, unconscious form. It was becoming more and more likely the man he’d survived with for six years was not going to make it.

     “All those times you yelled a’ me.” Ellis finally growled, focusing on his pistols, “told me Ah was stupid. Told me Ah’d never have made it this far withou’ you. Well, look a’ you now. Ellis is still kickin’ and yer as good as dead already.”

     He whipped both pistols viciously across the floor, legs drawing in as both hands clenched into fists over his tow truck hat. Ellis remained tensed there for a moment before storming over to his injured teammate.

     “Ah remember back when we had t’ git th’ stock car across tha’ bridge. Yuh told me you ‘ad no problem leavin’ me behind. Ah remember when you though’ tha’ hun’er killed me. Stood over me sayin’ ‘Ellis, Ah’m surprised y' lasted as long as yuh did.’ Well guess wha’, asshole, Ah’m still here. All those years yuh told me you were th’ only reason Ah was still alive, tha’ Ah’d be dead withou’ yuh, ain’ so DAMN FUNNY _NOW, IS IT!?”_

He seized the man by the shirt collar, aiming a vicious slap across Nick’s face.

     “If you’re gonna wake up, you’re gonna do it right now, _c’mon!”_

     He slapped the man again, but Nick did not stir. Ellis let him drop back onto the sleeping bag, turning away as both hands found their way under the cap and into his curly, brown hair. His breaths were little more than strangled gasps as his back hit the wall, and he slid down. Tears streaked down his face as he pulled his hair so tight it hurt.

     “Okay.” He muttered to no one in particular, sniffing back his tears before they went any further. He drew his legs in, leaning his elbows against them. The heels of his palms pressed against his forehead for a long moment before his arms dropped, hanging limp over his knees. Ellis nodded to himself, choking back tears one more time.

     “Okay.”

     Silence fell heavy on the saferoom, only punctuated by the kid's steadying breaths. It was a long moment before he spoke again.

     “Six years you spen’ babyin’ me. Holdin’ me back. Like Ah was too dumb t’ survive withou’ yuh. Ah wasn’t th’ dumbass fightin’ zombies in a $3000 suit. Ah wasn’t th’ asshole tha’ ran off Ro an’ Coach. Still no’ convinced they couldn’ find us when we go’ separated. They probably didn’ wanna. Not when i’ was _you_ they’d be comin’ back to.”

     Ellis looked over at the longbow he’d been practicing with. The one Nick had only laughed at him for.

     “You clung t’ yer street smarts an’ guns like they’d save yuh forever. Th’ hell good did street smarts yuh ou’ here? Refused t’ learn the bow neither, like th’ world isn’ gonna run outta bullets someday. Yuh made fun of me when Ah tried t’ teach yuh t’ hun’ game, tellin’ me i’ was a waste uh time when there were still cans t’ scavenge. Couldn’ face th’ fact there ain’ no rescue waitin’ for us. Ah’m th’ only one thinkin’ ‘bout next year, next ten years, th’ rest of our damn lives. An’ you jus’ _laughed_.”

     Ellis slowly climbed to his feet, his face cold as he simply stared out the saferoom door.

     “… Ah’d be fine if you died.”

With that, he pushed open the metal door and left.

 

Something in the darkness was reaching for him.

     Ellis jerked with a yelp, hearing a low, rasping breath as a hand tried to clamp around his ankle. His face broke with fear and dread as he struggled to get away, pulling his pistol from the table above. They’d both heard of carriers turning after they died, he’d just never thought he’d have to put Nick down.

     The rasping breath was louder, the grip on his ankle tighter as the pistol shook in Ellis’ hands, aimed for Nick’s head as he leaned back, still weakly trying to free his leg. Tears streamed down his face as his eyes screwed shut, the metal falling from his hands as he slumped back, shaking with fear, anguish and a horrible sense of failure.

     “Ah can’t,” he wheezed, breath hitching as he fought the urge to sob. “Ah can’t, Nick, Ah’m so sorry…”

     “… Ellis…”

The mechanic’s eyes flew wide. He scrambled for the flashlight on his pistol as the rasping came again.

     “… kid… please…”

The light snapped on, and Nick screwed his eyes shut at the sudden illumination. He was alive. Not dead, not turned, _alive._

     Ellis scrambled for his backpack as Nick winced in pain, holding his chest. Broken ribs, that had probably been the snap he’d heard when the smoker had him. He pulled out a water bottle, quickly unscrewing the cap and pressing it to Nick’s lips.

     “Drink, man, you’ve been out for two days.”

     Nick weakly grasped for the bottle as Ellis tipped it into his mouth, letting the younger man brace his shoulders as he drank. The empty bottle fell from his trembling fingers as Nick sagged against Ellis, still all but doubled over from the pain in his ribs.

     “… Smoker…”

     “Shhh,” Ellis shushed, gingerly moving Nick until his spine was against the mechanic’s chest, tilting his head back so he could breathe easier. He’d dealt with broken ribs before, it was never fun.

     “Smoker’s long dead. We’re in th’ saferoom, yer alright.”

Nick didn’t answer, eyes shut as he leaned back against Ellis and simply breathed. The kid wrapped an arm around his shoulders, holding him in place while he fought for air.

     “… Ellis…”

     “Yeah?”

He felt a hand weakly grasp his arm.

     “… Thank you.”

Ellis couldn’t help a faint smile in the darkness, even as the hand fell away and Nick slipped back into unconsciousness.

     “… Yer welcome, Nick.”

 

Sleep eventually claimed the younger man as well, one arm still wrapped around Nick’s shoulders, his own back against the wall and Nick’s back against his chest.

Ellis could survive on his own, but he slept soundly, knowing he didn’t have to.


End file.
